


old works I recently remembered

by PeopleInThatBackRoom



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword
Genre: Drabble Collection, Multi, Self Prompts, my old works from a while ago, old fics, some of these are pretty emo tbh, you have been warned haha
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2020-05-16 13:21:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19319041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeopleInThatBackRoom/pseuds/PeopleInThatBackRoom
Summary: A collection of old short fics I had written a while ago and forgotten about. Whoops lol.





	1. Challenge 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Challenge 4] - 
> 
> 500+ Words, LoZ, Tiredness (feeling)

_Snapsnap_.

Groose pauses his efforts to collect the juicy-looking, low hanging fruit and looks around, a bit put off by the small crackle of noise below him. He's confident it was just nature taking its course--it had been very breezy as of late--but he can't quite squash his suspicions, not that you could ever be too sure in these parts anyway. As a test he rattles a couple of branches of the tree he's in and the neighboring one, letting the loose fruit and leaves fall to the ground in an attempt to get a reaction from whoever was standing below his spot in the trees, however none were to be heard or seen from where he was in the trees. He frowns a little at the lack of results, but puts his doubt aside in favor going back to working at collecting fruits--starting off by picking the plump one he had spied earlier near the way top.

Thump, _snap_.

What is going on?

Stopping what he's doing again, Groose scopes beneath him to look for the source of the unusual sound--and of course finds himself staring at nothing.

It is probably Grannie, came a thought, but even that seemed implausible. First, she never leaves the temple without good reason to, and even when she does she never strays far from it. However, with the goosebumps set aflame on his skin any thought besides the one they carried would be appreciated.

"Grannie?" He asks, raising his voice. He waits a while for a response, and when there isn't one to be heard, Groose shrugs off the peculiar noise as just him overreacting to the forest's natural order of things, opting to finish harvesting the plentiful fruit from the tree, even with the goosebumps still clinging to his flesh.

Snapsnap, _crunch_. 

Alright.That was the last straw for Groose. Eyeing his makeshift shears, he slowly climbs down the tree and tries to come up with a plan of action to deal with whoever was hiding, when all of a sudden another shift of movement comes from his right.

He pounes.

The body underneath his own feels heavily clad, as if its owner was to go on a long journey to rough places. There's a sword at their side, and Groose thinks that he could reach it if he's quick enough. He uses the precious time he has over his stunned enemy to grab for the sword, but _can't_ keep a good grasp on it, and before he can process what's happening, his enemy flips their positions and Groose finds himself on his back, his hands pinned above his head. He glares up at his foe, only to be glaring at a mop of blonde hair and familiar blue eyes staring down at him in a look torn between breathlessness and amusement.

"Link!"

Link nods, but doesn't leave his spot above him, much to his chagrin. That doesn't stop Groose from mouthing off like he always does:

"You're lucky the Groose-ster didn't take you out."

Link snorts at that and relinquishes his grip on Groose's wrists, letting Groose lightly push him off and rise to a sitting pose. "How long had you been standing there?"

Link chuckles a little and shrugs, his eyes slowly gazing over the basket of fruit resting on the other side of Groose, who catches the movement and smiles at him.

"Hungry?" He asks, and Link nods at him, humming in appreciation when he tosses the fruit to him, which he promptly gobbles up.

"Really hungry," Groose asserts. Link laughs at that, but doesn't stop him from tossing him over more fruit.

"Eat up, Hero, 'cause there's plenty where that came from." Link's smiling eyes telltale of his thanks to him, as he takes bites into the delicious fruit, taking every few minutes to wipe the juice drops gathering on his chin. He lies back on the lush greenery sometime after he no longer cares to eat more fruit, his left shoulder outstretched and lightly touching Groose's right thigh as he lays his hat over his eyes, blocking out the world around him

"Why didn't you come out earlier?" Groose asks, twiddling with a plucked strand of grass. Link 'mmmphs' at that, and Groose takes the single strand and tickles Link's nose with it, much to the other's annoyance.

"Hey," he says, jerking the single piece of grass away from Link's swatting hands. "long day?"

Link, no longer plagued by grass poking at his nose, nods in affirmative, before yawning and rolling onto his side. Groose laughs quietly, and makes to get up and continue his harvesting but Link turns back over and touches his thigh, squeezing it gently whenever he feels Groose move in his grasp.

"Not everyone can nap right now, y'know?" He says, and Link groans in protest, but loosens his grip on Groose's thigh anyway.

Groose doesn't move to work again, though. He stretches out on the grassy ground himself, wondering what the funny feeling in his chest meant.


	2. Challenge 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Challenge 1] - 
> 
> 550+ Words, LoZ, Thoughts

He's restless tonight, for some reason. He wishes he could pinpoint the exact moment this came about but finds himself swimming through a state of purgatory, his body awake and his mind too gnawed at to process anything for him other than announcing his body's awareness. Perhaps was the rather surrealistic feeling of being here as a whole that plagued him. The thought that there was a world below their own all along. One beautiful and far more inviting than their own home in the clouds, hordes of monsters or not.  
  
One he was lying the night away in, looking up at the empty sky through the trembling branches of the tree he declared his resting stop for this voiceless, lonely evening.  
  
Was there any meaning on staring above at a faux sky of undying clouds—no, but there was a certain appeal to the insignificant activity that he couldn't place. A subconscious thought that encouraged him to look deeper, to look and find a frightening loveliness in the gray, gray void. To find, and love, keep locked in his body's glossary to replay whenever his eyes could no longer.  Were the long hours of isolation—save for Grannie's occasional presence—affecting his judgment or, was there really something morbidly attractive hidden in the vast void they fondly called sky?   
  
His eyes are closed now, as he sucks in the warm, warm air of the land below, his soul gates haunted by the emptiness of above as it floods his taunt, flesh-vessel, overwhelming its system with all the fullness of a lover with a sealed fate. A feeling he's afraid to admit his instant attraction to. He's still restless, has been restless for weeks now, with endless contemplation; endless wondering of whether or not he'll remember a time Fate rapt on his door, or Purpose kindly headed his way, or Luck believed him a worthwhile pawn—or, if there even was such a time that existed for him to base and justify present and future choices on.   
  
This night of restlessness was different, he'd argue. With the dark sea of clouds etched in his memory, engraved as a fiery pool in his loins, carved delicately on his heart, he no longer felt unnecessary in the goddess's scheme--no longer felt the urge to be needed in her schemes, to be taken and toyed with and tossed around as Link was. To be weighed with the fate of many as Zelda was, or to guide with wisdom and natural prowess as the old lady did.   
  
He could live in a state of consciousness they could never achieve,--to be in charge of how one spent their own mortality—remaining guiltless at not advancing the plot of this dawning age. He could be Groose. He could live and be meaningless and be happy and be reckless and be neutral and eventually die, his actions only a faded slate or a fuzzy memory easily discarded in the game of life as a whole.   
  
Most of all, he supposed, his big hair snagged loosely on young branches, his eyes squeezed shut and his body gleefully overdosing on bewitched stimulation, was his acceptance of his expendable existence and his wish to embrace it with all the life-span of his remaining. His nonnegotiable plan to embrace it.   
  
He's still rather restless tonight, even after all his reasoning and melancholic topics of choice, however, with the comforting thought of being able to create a million plans for tomorrow and unceremoniously drop them whenever he wished without the will of a higher being breathing down his neck certainly gave his tired mind much to poke fun at before he eventually passed out, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> looking back it kinda reads like emo stoner poetry but go off I guess


	3. Challenge 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Challenge 5] -   
> 550+ Words, LoZ, Sequel, Doubts (feeling)

The next week, he finds himself wondering whether or not all that he had experienced that fateful night was just a dream—a dream that decided to focus on structured dialogue and the thought of total awareness instead of fantastical imagery that showed more than it explained, of all things. One that opened up his understanding to new heights, that broke down the pent up pride and jealousy within him and showed him a better path.   
  
One that he felt so _awake_ in. One that even the mere thought of how concepts he never knew existed came to him, tenderly embracing his naïve frame, opening his eyes so wide they ached, exposing them to the empty, black sky as if his simple mind was prey to be devoured without a second thought would set his heart alight. The surrealism of the situation made his internal argument lean more towards it having been a dream, along with a few other aspects, but……  
  
But for the life of him he didn't want to believe it was only a series of hallucinations brought on upon by the unusual but delicious food he's been eating, last minute thoughts or the need for rest. He wanted to believe it was something better than a subconscious-made vision--to mean more than one.  
  
He was too distracted to argue with himself further--a certain blonde kissing at his neck and kneading his clothes torso roughly being the culprit--and gave himself up to the overwhelming sensations of touching and being touched. Amusingly enough, he supposed he had this to thank for pulling the trigger in his head, inviting the thoughts he had archived, but never really lost touch with in his day-to-day experiences. Perhaps it could sense his doubt, and wanted to show him just how much it wasn't a dream.  
  
To that, he'd say go ahead. _Prove it._  
  
Link's hat had been tossed to the floor sometime ago, his shirt, too. Groose's was being lift up over his head, and was followed by a gesture from Link he neither regret nor encouraged for entirely different reasons.  
  
"Easy, Hero, the world's not ending tomorrow," He teased. Link huffed at him but continue his assault on Groose's exposed chest, playing with sensitive pink nubs, rubbing and squeezing any flesh within the vicinity of his hands, smirking whenever Groose voiced his enjoyment.  
  
Never a person to be one-upped, he loosely holds Link's hips and slowly rubs their groins together, eliciting moans from his equally half-dressed companion, who in retaliation, holds him against the stone wall, much to his chagrin.   
  
"C-cold." He definitely does _not_ squeak. Link laughs a little but rubs his hands along his sides and back, kissing him until Groose very well can't remember what was bothering him. Link is so nice here, very attentive, very self-willed, he almost forgets that he and Link are essentially on borrowed time. That Link's true quest was to find Zelda and restore peace and prosperity to Skyloft and the lands beneath it or to die trying. Not to live an average life, not to complete any other goals or interests he might have, and certainly not to be messing around with Groose as if he has a real life, or does real things without interference from the most divine.

It's never hard to remember, but everything he and Link are doing is so _good_ in the moment, that he can't help but give in, forgets to shield himself from the inevitability of loss.


End file.
